


she took my arm (i don't know how it happened)

by NatureGirl202



Series: raindrops on the tongue, blood under the nails [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, everything else just Happened lol, literally all i had planned for this was the dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 15:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatureGirl202/pseuds/NatureGirl202
Summary: of dances and three little words.





	she took my arm (i don't know how it happened)

The music is loud and the crowd boisterous. He can feel the energy of the room in his bones. Near everyone has a drink in hand and most are jovial. He’s sitting at the table the group had managed to snag, eyes on the crowd. He’d been watching Namera dance with Leliana, the two girls bouncing and twirling around together. He’d been unable to tear his eyes off of her. She’d been _smiling_ and _laughing_ and she’d been radiant with such genuine _happiness_. He hadn’t seen her like this before and the sight was so breathtaking and her happiness so contagious that a smile of his own had begun to bloom across his face.

The crowd had swallowed them some moments ago, though, and he’d felt the loss of the sight in his stomach. Now, he waits, scanning the unfamiliar bodies for a glimpse of her. He has to admit, he’d been genuinely surprised when she’d agreed to Leliana’s suggestion of spending the evening at the tavern. It’s their last night in Denerim before they head out to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She’d managed to procure them rooms at a ridiculously good price—her gift of persuasion never not impressive to him—and she’d seemed to have every intent of going to bed so that they may get an early start tomorrow. But then Leliana had spoken the suggestion. Namera had paused, then given Leliana that same small smile she gives him when he wants to spend a couple extra coins on some good cheese, and said “alright.”

Morrigan and Sten have already left to their rooms, no doubt not enjoying the party-like atmosphere as much as others. Wynne has remained, watching them with a sort of mother-like—he assumes, not having all that much experience with _mothers_ —indulgence. Namera’s dog, Konroy, lays under the table snoring. The fact that he can sleep with all this noise and activity baffles Alistair.

He jolts from his scanning of the crowd when a warm body plops down into the chair next to him. He turns and it’s Namera and his heart can’t help but give an extra _thump_ at the sight of her. She’s wearing a raggy top and skirt that she’d managed to haggle from a refugee back in Lothering—it’s nothing like the finery she’d grown up with, he’s sure, but he’s also sure she doesn’t actually care about that—and her feet are bare, having ditched her shoes not long into dancing. Her face is red from the exertion of dancing and she’s breathing heavy like she does after a battle. Her hair is out of its usual do, falling in a golden wave past her shoulder blades. Her green eyes are alight with excitement and her lips are still curled up in a smile.

Maker, she’s beautiful. He wants to tell her that; he has before, after all. But he doesn’t want to scare her off with an overabundance of affection. While this relationship of theirs has been going on for almost three months, it’s still _new_. He still gets a little giddy at the thought that they’re _in_ a _relationship_ , like when he was a child and Eamon gave him a particularly nice toy to play with. That’s the wrong comparison, though, because that would make her the toy and she’s anything _but_ a toy to him and, Maker, he can’t think straight around her.

“Where’s Leliana?” he asks and she turns to him, brow furrowing.

“What?” she asks, voice pitched to be heard over the music.

He leans closer to her, close enough to feel the warmth of her on his face. “Where’s Leliana?”

“Oh!” She laughs and he wants to bottle up the sound so that he may listen to it forever. “She decided to join the band.” Her eyes leave him, searching the crowd as she leans to the side, no doubt trying to catch sight of her friend. He listens and indeed hears the familiar sound of a lute joining that of the band.

They sit in companionable silence after that. He switches between watching the crowd and watching her, mostly just because he doesn’t want to stare at her like some creep. He watches as she sways to the music, body practically bouncing in her seat and bare feet moving with the beat. Her eyes are alight, practically dancing themselves. The current song playing ends and she claps, letting out a supportive _whoop_ that he knows is entirely for Leliana. Another song begins quickly, its tune just as upbeat as the previous.

She turns to him suddenly and he blushes as he’s caught obviously staring. She’s smiling at him, though, so he doesn’t think he cares. Then when she slips her warm hand into his, he _knows_ he doesn’t care and she leans forward to put her face within inches of his and he forgets what it even was he doesn’t care about.

“Dance with me” she says and he blinks.

“What?” He couldn’t have heard her right. Does he _seem_ like the kind of guy that can dance well? It’s already a running joke amongst their group that he runs into every damn trap they come across. Well, she runs into them fairly frequently as well, but Leliana actually apologizes to her for not spotting them. When it happens to him, she just giggles. Anyway! It’s a well-established fact that off the battlefield, he’s awkward and tends toward clumsiness. Besides, he’s never actually _danced_ before and he’s pretty sure that if he stepped on her barefeet, she’d break a toe or something.

She gives him that fond look of exasperation that usually accompanies one of his jokes. “Dance with me!” She’s already standing up, still holding his hand, but he’s shaking his head.

“Uh, no, bad, bad idea. You don’t want- umph!” She gives his arm a strong tug with that strength of hers that’s always contradicted her small stature and delicate features. He’s instantly on his feet and stumbling along as she pulls him toward the dancing crowd. She stops somewhere near the center and he grimaces as several bodies bump into him. She gives him a pout, though. He’s seen her use it before on Bodahn and the poor dwarf seemed ready to give her his entire wagon of goods. He understands. She could probably defeat the Archdemon with that pout alone.

“Please?” She’s looking up at him with that pout and her face is still red and her eyes are still dancing and he’s totally helpless.

“Oh, alright” he acquiesces. “They are _your_ toes, I suppose.” She giggles as she steps closer to him. He hesitates, not sure where to put his hands or what to do with them. She doesn’t hesitate, though, placing his free hand on her waist while entwining the fingers of their hands already clasping each other. Her other hand then goes on his shoulder and she slides one step closer. He gulps and wonders if maybe someone let loose and jar of bees in the room, because the space between them is buzzing. She’s been pressed up against him before, whatever clothes they’re wearing at the moment being the only thing between them. They’ve never gone any further than that, though, close and thorough kisses. Still, they’re both so inexperienced that every time they’re near still feels like the first time and there’s also never been quite so many people around to witness their intimacy. Though, if she gets any closer, he doubts he’ll even remember the crowd surrounding them.

They begin to sway and as he gets more comfortable, their bodies pick up the tempo. Eventually, they’re stepping in tune with the music. It’s not smooth, his movement is clunky at times and sometimes she goes right when he goes left, but he hasn’t stepped on her feet yet, so he feels successful enough. Eventually, he even gets daring, giving her a twirl. She laughs and he wants to tell the band to never stop, the crowd to never stop dancing. This happiness is so rare for her and he doesn’t know how long it’ll last, so he wants to prolong it for as long as possible.

When he pulls her back to him, her body hits his and he feels warm all over. He forgets to keep dancing, too caught up in her smile and the way it makes her eyes brighten and her nose crinkle. He wants to kiss her, so he does. He bends down and she stands on her tip toes to meet him. The hand on his shoulder slides into his hair and he can feel her smile even against his lips.

He’s not sure if she’ll be happy and carefree like this again. He hopes she will, hopes that maybe he’ll make her this happy sometime. He knows in the morning all the weight will be back on her shoulders, trying its best to push her into the ground. He wants to help her, but doesn’t know how. He’s never been good at carrying weight, but he wants to, for her.

* * *

He walks behind her and Leliana as they make their way to their rooms. Wynne had retired an hour ago, giving them a fondly stern reminder about their upcoming early morning. He could tell, though, that the older woman was just as unwilling to cut short the joy emanating from Namera. He’s not the only one in the party that worries for her and can see the sadness in her even when she tries so valiantly to hide it.

The two girls chat animatedly, as if it weren’t the wee hours of the morning. Konroy lets out a large yawn by his side and Alistair pats the dog’s head sympathetically.  They stop then, as they reach their three rooms, Leliana’s across the hall and Namera’s and Alistair’s are next to each other.

Leliana stops talking mid-sentence, glances between him and Namera, gives Namera an unsubtle wink, and then bids goodnight before slipping into her room without another word. Namera gives a fond roll of her eyes, before going to her door. She opens it, letting Konroy in, before turning to him.

His heart pounds. A part of him wants her to invite him in. Another part wants to invite _her_ to _his_ room. He knows there wouldn’t be anything automatically, uh, _unwholesome_ about either request. They’ve slept together innocently a few times by now. Still, maybe he doesn’t want it to be quite so, er, _innocent_ anymore?

He rolls the realization around in his head, a feint blush coming to his cheeks as the subject of his suddenly not-totally-innocent thoughts stares at him—not that they’d _always_ been completely innocent, but he’d been more able to push them to the back of his mind before.

He clears his throat, trying to resituate his thoughts. This isn’t the right time. “ _So_ , that wasn’t too bad.”

Her grin cracks open. “It was fun.” She tilts her head and looks at him, a clear sign he’s about to be teased. “You weren’t so bad for a first-timer.” She blushes and for once he’s not the one stumbling over words. “Dancing, I mean. I’m talking about dancing.”

He raises an eyebrow, glad the tables have turned. “Oh _really_? Because I thought you were talking about-”

This time he’s the one getting a fond eye roll. “Good _night_ , Alistair.” She turns toward her room. He watches, smile dimming with the weight of the words suddenly on his tongue. He should tell her, needs to. They’ve been waiting there since Goldanna’s, but he’d been too busy stewing over her words and what they meant and how they applied to, well, everything. He needs to stand up for himself more, he knows that, and he needs to do it now.

“I love you.” The words are out and he feels freer, no longer carrying their weight. Now, though, he’s nervous, scared. He knows she cares for him—she cares for everyone, for Andraste’s sake. Who’s to say she cares for him to the same level he does for her? She’d been hesitant when he’d first asked if she’d even returned his feelings. He can’t take it back now, though, not that he would want to. She’s whipping around with a quickness he’s seen her use in the battlefield, her focus moving on to her next target and cutting them off before they can even lay a hand on her. She’s vulnerable now, though: hair loose, gaze wide, and body lacking armor. She stares at him, silent, and his chest thunders with nerves. “I-I just thought… you should know that.” She’s still staring, mouth opening and closing, and- are- are her eyes wet? Oh Maker, is she going to _cry_?

He’s about to apologize for whatever sadness he apparently caused, but suddenly she’s leaping at him, throwing her arms around his neck and crashing her lips to his. He gives a grunt of surprise and scrambles to catch her as her legs wrap around his waist and he loses balance, her back hitting the wall between their two doors as he stumbles to the side. He props her against it, feeling like his legs might give out with relief, before finally being able to focus enough to kiss her back. One of her hands is in his hair while the other caresses his jaw. His own hand is on her waist, while the other keeps them propped against the wall, but he can feel the softness of her hair brush against it. His nerves are sparking to life and suddenly he’s not tired at all.

She pulls away eventually, and they’re both breathing heavily. She nuzzles her face against his and he can’t help but grin cheekily.

“ _So_ …” he says after a moment, drawing out the word. She smiles that soft smile of hers that has captured him since the beginning and he almost expects for her to say she loves him too. Instead, he gets a soft “Goodnight, Alistair” and a quick kiss that almost feels like a promise, like she will say those words back to him, but just not tonight. He lets her go, her feet quietly hitting the floor. She slips from his arms, but pauses in her doorway to look back. She gives him another soft smile, before turning into her room completely and closing the door behind her.

He tries to get the grin off his face, finds he can’t, and if there’s an extra bounce to his step as he goes to his room, well, there’s no one around to witness it.

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr](http://bxtgrl.tumblr.com/post/162304194902/she-took-my-arm-i-dont-know-how-it-happened). <3


End file.
